


Knife's Edge

by supahnova



Category: The Queen's Gambit (TV)
Genre: Benny watts is bisexual I can tell bcs of his stupid little hat, Humiliation, Knifeplay, M/M, Verbal Humiliation, We've established that Benny gets turned on when people beat him in chess right, chess as foreplay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:20:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27671936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supahnova/pseuds/supahnova
Summary: "And if you win?" Benny asked warily.The Russian tapped his chin, only barely pretending to be deep in thought. "Hmm... I think I'd like to take that ridiculous little knife of yours and give you a little reminder of my victory."Bemny's breath caught in his throat, his cheeks flushing with heat. He carefully avoided the gaze of his opponent, instead fiddling with a bishop."Deal."The word left his mouth on its own accord.
Relationships: Benny Watts/OMC, Benny Watts/Original Male Character
Comments: 12
Kudos: 62





	1. Chapter 1

"You-- Watts! Да, ты, пидор!" 

Benny heard loud, drunken laughter from the group of visiting Russians across the bar. He turned, raising an eyebrow at the man who had called out to him. The Russian had dark hair and darker eyes, and was far broader and taller than Benny. 

"Comrade," Benny replied sardonically with a short nod. 

"Come on, where's that famous American welcome? Give us a game, Watts," the Russian said with a thick accent. 

Benny snorted. "I'm done for the day." 

"Ah, you hear that? The great American Benny Watts is too scared to give us a game," the Russian drawled, raising his eyebrows in a clear challenge.

Benny rolled his eyes, but couldn't ignore the bait and stalked over to the Russian's table.  
"Let's make it quick, then."  
The other players quickly made way, drawing up a chair for Benny across from his challenger. One of the Russian's arms were flung casually over the side of the velvet booth seat, his legs spread wide.  
"Let's make this interesting," Benny said as he lined up the pieces on the board before him.  
"Ah! Of course. If you win... you can have my hotel suite for the rest of the weekend. Proper accommodations for America's best chess player," the Russian said with a mocking smile. The Russians always had the best accommodations, their pockets overflowing with state sponsorships. Benny was staying in a motel across from the grand hotel where the tournament was being held.  
"And if you win?" Benny asked warily.  
The Russian tapped his chin, only barely pretending to be deep in thought. "Hmm... I think I'd like to take that ridiculous little knife of yours and give you a little reminder of my victory."  
Bemny's breath caught in his throat, his cheeks flushing with heat. He carefully avoided the gaze of his opponent, instead fiddling with a bishop.  
"Deal."  
The word left his mouth on its own accord.  
The Russian smiled. "You can take white."

The game was a mess. Both of them played ruthlessly, opening aggressively and swapping pieces like it was nothing. Benny could feel the Russian's eyes raking up and down his body, then coming to a stop at the knife on his hip. Part of him wanted to throw the game on purpose, just to see what would happen. In the end, he didn't need to. An ingenious sequence of moves by the Russian brought his king into checkmate, decisively ending the game.  
"Well played," Benny said evenly. The Russian leaned back, his eyes blatantly sweeping across Benny's body again.  
"Come here then, Watts," he ordered flippantly, pushing the table to the side with his leg. Benny got up hesitantly. Someone pushed him forward, causing him to stumbled right into the Russian so that their knees were touching. Benny noticed that the Russian's pupils were fully blown, with the concentration of a wolf pinpointing its prey. The Russian slowly wrapped his hand around the front of Benny's black button-down shirt. Then he yanked him forward quickly and forcefully, until Benny found himself awkwardly straddling the larger man's lap. He blushed scarlet as the Russian's friends let out a few wolf whistles. The Russian grinned and Benny forgot to breathe as he felt the man's hands, one on the small of his back holding him upright and the other wandering down the side of his chess to his waist, where Benny's knife was strapped to his belt. The Russian pulled out the knife and spread his legs just ever so slightly, forcing Benny's skinny legs to stretch wider, his thighs trembling a bit in response.  
"Where shall I put it?" The Russian murmured. "Here?"  
He dragged the knife against the fabric covering Benny's thigh, pressing harder until the fabric, taut against Benny's leg, split to reveal pale, unblemished skin. Benny forgot how to breathe. He wondered if the others were enjoying this, the sight of America's best chess player on the Russian's lap with his own knife pressed against his skin.  
"No.... I think up here will be better." The Russian used the tip of the knife to pop off the top button of Benny's shirt, then the next, and the next, revealing a column of pale skin.  
"Right here," the Russian murmured, pressing the tip of the knife into Benny's skin just above his heart. Benny gritted his teeth, his body shaking as the Russian slowly dragged the blade across his skin, forming a thin, shallow line. A tally mark. He caught a whimper in his throat, turning it into just a short, terse hum of discomfort.  
"It was a good game, Watts. You can still see my hotel suite if you want." The Russian's tone was still mocking, daring Benny to accept.  
"Might as well see how the other half lives," Benny replied offhandedly, extricating himself from the Russian's lap as gracefully as he could. The Russian remained seated for a moment, his eyes flickering back to the flash of skin revealed by Benny's now-ruined shirt. Benny could feel a bead of blood forming below the cut on his chest. Then, as if time had unfrozen, the Russian briskly stood up and ushered Benny towards the elevators, calling back to his smirking friends not to expect him until the next morning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Writing a second chapter of chess foreplay instead of actually getting to the point? Couldnt be me

Benny let out a low whistle as he entered the Russian's extravagant penthouse suit. 

"Maybe I should join the USSR. They sure know how to treat their chess players."

The Russian laughed lightly. "Yes, I understand you had to declare your love for Jesus Christ last year so that the Christians would sponsor your field trip to Moscow."

Benny smiled sardonically. "Our lord and savior. And I lost against every Russian player there, anyways."

"I hear they enjoyed you, anyways. Vodka?"

"Водка? Jesus, are you trying to be a walking stereotype or does it just come naturally?"

"Says the American in the cowboy hat." The Russian swung open a small wooden cabinet, removing a bottle of whiskey.  
"I suppose you prefer this, American? Or do you brew your own moonshine too?"

Benny snorted, removing his hat and letting the Russian pour him a small glass. He wandered over to a low polished table, where a chess set of frosted glass stood in a tense endgame configuration. The Russian joined him with two glasses of whiskey, nudging Benny with his elbow.

"Движение? The move for black?"  
"Knight takes rook, mate in three."  
The Russian raised an eyebrow. "Very good."   
Benny scowled. "Just because you beat me once doesn't mean I'm always pushing wood."   
"Of course not," the Russian said gracefully. "Shall we play again, then?" He sat the two whiskey glasses done, fingers already nimbly moving the pieces back into place. Benny had a flash of inspiration.  
"Let's play speed chess."  
The Russian laughed. "No, I don't think so. I hear how you swindle our best out of all their petty cash, Benny Watts. But there is one thing I have heard of in America."  
"And what could that be?" Benny replied flatly.  
The Russian sat down on the carpet, already intently studying the board. "Strip chess."  
Benny paused, slowly sitting down across from the Russian and leaning back on his elbows. "Funny. Trying to get my clothes off, are we?"  
"Have been since I saw you," the Russian said easily, staring Benny directly in the eyes as if daring him to look away. Benny scoffed, pushing his queen pawn forward two squares.   
The Russian responded by mirroring his move. "What? You don't believe me?"

Benny rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah, as if anyone would want to get their hands on all of this. I wouldn't be surprised this is all a ploy by your lot to throw me off my game."   
He protected his pawn with a knight. "Oh, and I'm NOT playing strip chess with you." 

"That doesn't change the fact that I'm trying to get your clothes off." The Russian suddenly reached out a hand, squeezing Benny's thigh under the table. The other brought out a second pawn.   
"Or do I need to beat you again before you let me? That seems to get you all worked up, doesn't it?" His voice seemed to drop an octave.

Benny felt his face heat up. The Russian carefully reached across the table to brush Benny's hair out of his face. 

"You're very pretty."

"Don't lie," Benny shot back almost automatically. 

The Russian let out a short laugh. "The pretty American boy doesn't think he's pretty. Tragedy." He picked up his whiskey and then standing up slowly, deliberately, and circling around the table like a shark to stand directly behind Benny, still sat on the carpet with his feet tucked under his legs. Benny became strangely aware of his own heartbeat. And the Russian sat down directly behind him, his breath tickling Benny's neck.   
"What's the move, Watts?" He murmured, looping his arm around the smaller chess player's body and easily unhooking the third button on his shirt, the other two already hanging loose and barely displaying the red cut across Benny's heart. Benny pushed his bishop forward, gasping as he felt the Russian tug his collar down and bite a mark into his neck. One hand pressed into his thigh and the other explored his chest, toying with one of his nipples until Benny gasped. 

"Your move," Benny managed to get out as the hand on his thigh moved to his hair. The Russian pulled harshly, forcing Benny to arch back with a pained gasp, exposing his pale white throat.   
"Will you concede if I promise to fuck you good enough?" 

"Will you concede if I let you?" 

Benny wrenched his hair out of the Russian's grasp and flipped around to face him. Their eyes both promised all competition, no compromise.

"An adjournment, then," the Russian replied after a pause.

"I should make you write down your fucking move."

And then the Russian pushed his mouth onto Benny's, all violence and teeth exactly how Benny wanted it.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll probably add another more explicit chapter to this later! I love comments <3


End file.
